


We shake and we shudder

by intravenusann



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Clothed Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Frottage, M/M, Mild Femdom, Military Uniforms, Multi, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Uniform Kink, Uniforms, handjobs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-18 04:57:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5899117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intravenusann/pseuds/intravenusann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moments of intimacy in the middle of war are hard fought and not always shared with everyone. </p>
<p>(I just wanted to write some PWP smut for jedistormpilot, but like all the different pairings and then also the triad. I could write something deep and meaningful here, but I feel like that sets up the expectation that there's plot and there isn't.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Starting off with Poe/Rey.

It starts with a simple statement: “I need a co-pilot.”

“I thought you were the best pilot in the Resistance,” Rey says, with only the tiniest twitch at the corner of her mouth to indicate that she’s screwing with him.

“Yeah, but there’s only one of me and the TL-1200 works best with two in the cockpit. You’re right, I should just ask Captain Kun.”

He steps back, not even turning away from her. Rey lunges forward.

“Wait!”

Poe waits.

“I can fly a TL-1200.” Or at least, she can in theory. She’s flown the simulation. Theoretically, she could fly a TL-1200 with a full cargo hold and a malfunctioning exhaust. She wants to fly the real thing (but maybe not with a malfunctioning exhaust).

Poe Dameron, with his hair combed and his one-of-a-kind Astromech at his side, takes the plan to General Leia Organa: He and Rey will intercept the TL-1200, board it, and fly it into Resistance territory.

“Your troops will take it from there,” he says.

“I don’t like this plan,” she says.

“She’s the best pilot in the galaxy,” Poe says, keeping himself from smiling. “Unless your brother would like to volunteer.”

“That’s a First Order ship,” Leia says.

“Yes, ma’am.”

They take an older model tandem fighter — a T-65, which is familiar under Poe’s hands. Even with the EVA suit on her, he can hear Rey’s sigh. On her own lips, it’s a new sound. But to Poe, it’s very familiar.

“It’s really something, isn’t it?”

Poe makes the jump from the T-65 to the side of the TL-1200, while Rey takes his seat and continues the firefight with the freighter’s escort.

He shoots the pilot in the back of the head and then the co-pilot in the temple when they try to turn around. There’s no time to pull the T-65 into the TL-1200’s cargo _and_ dump the bodies out into the vacuum, but Poe still does it.

The TL-1200 turns and jumps just as more TIE fighters materialize around them. The world becomes a smear of stars as Rey pulls off the mask of her EVA suit. She laughs and laughs.

They trade off as best they can — one of them checking the TL-1200 for tracking devices while the other drives and stretches their right arm. But on their third jump, they slow to sub-lightspeed and find TIE fighters waiting for them like a nest of poisonous insects.

“Shit,” Poe says.

A co-pilot is _truly_ necessary when utilizing the TL-1200’s military-grade shields and weapons system.

Poe’s used to speaking to BB-8 during flights; Rey tells him to shut up. He could swear she flies with her eyes shut. She could swear he can’t fly with his mouth closed.

When they gun the freighter’s hyperdrive again, finally, Poe’s clothes are soaked in sweat. He breathes hard, like he’s been running laps around a base. Loose hairs cling to Rey’s temples with sweat.

“They won’t follow us again,” she says, and Poe wants to believe that. But they still hop all over the damn Outer Rim before heading to the drop-off point.

Keeping tibanna gas out of the hands of the First Order eats away at their offenses while fueling the Resistance. They land, and are greeted by a small cluster of people.

“You’re Poe Dameron,” a very young humanoid says.

“Is it true what they say,” an older man addresses Rey, “you train with Luke Skywalker?”

As it turns out, every single inhabitant of the outpost has gathered to welcome them.

“We would very much like to know if we could use a fresher,” Rey says.

And Poe makes a face at her, because there could be food or at least a celebration and she's thinking about _bathing_? Did she hit her head? Was she replaced with a First Order plant?

“Of course!” One of the women says. “We’ve even got ones with water. You should spend the night here. We'd love to have you.”

Rey just beams, all bright eyes and white teeth.

With a two-person escort, they're lead into the base.

Rey nods along to everything they say. “No, one room is fine. We’re good… Friends.”

Finally behind a closed door, Poe’s grateful to be able to use a fresher — even if he can’t understand why _Rey_ asked for one. Under his EVA suit and the orange beneath it, he's soaked in sweat. He strips off as much as he can in a hurry.

“Poe,” Rey says. He looks up and she's inches from his shoulder. She's still mostly dressed when she takes him by the shoulders and backs him up against the room’s door.

“What's this about?” he asks, and she kisses him. Her skin is sticky with sweat and so is his. She presses herself against him, all sharp bones and muscle. She kisses with her teeth, threatening to draw blood.

“That was amazing,” she breathes into Poe’s mouth. “The way you just–”

She kisses him again, but Poe understands. The adrenaline runs through both of them. He feels vividly alive; she feels like heat and power against him. Her legs straddle his thigh, grinding against him and rubbing the blunt point of her hipbone against his cock. It hurts a little, but it also gets him hard.

She leans her hips and grinds a little harder against his erection, so he reaches down and puts a hand down the front of her leggings. Poe would ask first, but he can't say much with Rey’s tongue in his mouth.

Blind, with his wrist pinned between their bodies, Poe still gets his fingers past hair pressed flat by hours of sitting in an EVA suit. She’s so wet that Poe feels a little jealous of that TL-1200. He doesn’t touch the hard knot of her clitoris directly, but the skin around it. She takes a hand off his shoulder and grabs his cock hard. Poe yelps into her mouth.

She lets him go only when she moves to pull down her leggings. Poe pulls his underwear down and steps out of it one foot at a time. He wants to be naked with her; their skin sticking together. She pulls one leg out of her leggings by pulling her knee up nearly to Poe’s shoulder. He gives her this little smile, like he’s somehow pleased with himself because of something she’s done, and the only reasonable thing for her to do is to bite his pink mouth. His stubble scrapes her skin raw when their chins collide.

Both hands on his shoulders, she pushes him down until his knees give a little, until their hips line up. She presses against him and he catches on quick, tilting his body so it matches hers.

Rey’s skin is hot against his, but she’s all wet heat grinding against his cock. Poe gasps, even moans a little. He’d like to be inside her, but there’s something to be said for how she grinds against him. There’s the hard press of her pelvic bone and the scratch of her hair and she makes everything easy, slick by moving against him. This probably feels better for her than fucking would and Poe recognizes a quickie when he’s in the middle of one.

Rey holds onto his shoulders and pants against his mouth. He makes a lot of noise, groaning and swearing; she barely makes any.

Poe thinks about flying, about stars and planets sliding past him in the darkness, about the taste of recycled air and the sight without sound of a firefight in space.

“Rey,” he says. “Mi cielo, mi estrella.”

He bites his lip, but not nearly as hard as she does.

“You beat me,” she says.

Poe breathes hard around his words, “Not a race I’m real proud of winning.”

She’s still grinding against him and that feels unsafe and like it could get uncomfortable very quickly.

“Let me make it up to you.”

As hard as she holds him, when he pushes back, she lets him go. He doesn’t waste his time kissing her sharp collarbones or her small, perfect breasts. He goes right to his knees and uses his thumbs to part the wet hair between her legs. His come is on her hip, her belly. A shudder ripples up the muscles of her stomach when he puts the flat of his tongue against her. Poe knows what he’s doing, has had time to learn what Rey likes. He doesn’t tease her. He uses his jaw and lets his teeth dig into the bottom of his tongue.

Rey grabs his hair with both hands. The muscles of her forearms stand out in stark contrast. She hisses every breath in between tightly clenched teeth.

Poe moves against her, but she moves against him too. Need burns in her pelvis, setting her whole body on fire. She’s so grateful that Poe understands. She doesn’t have to spell her desperation out in words or humiliate herself with begging.

“Poe,” she spits out his name like it had to fight its way out of her throat.

Her muscles all tense up, as though she’s not in control of her body anymore. But she has Poe by the roots of his hair, his open mouth against her, and it doesn’t really feel like he’s in control of her body either. No one is in control. She begins to shake.

Rey feels her energy flowing out into the floor, into the walls, into Poe, into their clothes piled around them, then back into her. It’s all bright, white heat.

When it’s over, she lets out a deep sigh and slowly releases Poe’s hair.

“Okay, now I need to use the fresher,” he says.

Her legs shake and she lets herself sink to the floor in front of him.

His kiss is wet with her taste, all sour and strange.

“Yes,” she agrees. “Then we should eat.”

“I’m sure BB-8 is wondering what’s taking us so long.”

Rey laughs.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Finn/Poe with a side of uniform fetishism.

When Poe Dameron was promoted from captain to commander, it was a field promotion, a technicality, without any sort of ceremony. He appreciates that. But still, it makes him smile to put on his dress greens and see his old Rapier squadron finally match him — in title, if not responsibility. He’ll be their direct superior now. Actually, he’s been their direct superior for weeks.

Karé’s had her Épée squadron, to match Stiletto, since Poe returned from his first escort mission with General Leia. And in addition to the Dagger squadron, Iolo just formed Cloak squadron out of raw recruits — two former commercial fliers and one Outer Rim merc who says the First Order left her for dead in the vacuum. So they’re both commanders in their own right.

But he just likes seeing them all dressed up.

And Finn — Finn who looks better than Poe in Poe’s clothes, even though they’re too tight. He’s still not sure why Finn doesn’t have his own dress uniform. Hasn’t he saved the Resistance’s asses enough by now?

Finn notices Poe looking at him during the ceremony. His shirt — Poe’s shirt, actually — fits just a little too tight and the dark jacket over it reminds him too much of the commissioned officers of the First Order. If he just had a stupid little hat, he could be one of Hux’s sycophants.

Comparatively, the Resistance has such nice uniforms — Finn wants something like that. All greens and browns and greys; fabrics that look soft to the touch and brown leather accents.

Poe keeps looking at him, but he can’t stop looking at Poe’s waist. Poe’s green jacket, the color of an olea berry’s skin, makes his broad shoulders look even broader and his brown leather belt makes his waist look just the right size to be framed by Finn’s hands.

From the back, when he turns to accept a hug from the woman beside him, Poe’s ass makes the tail of his coat stick out a little. It’s just unfair.

Finn tugs at the collar of Poe’s shirt, then the cuffs.

The other great thing about the Resistance’s uniforms, in Finn’s mind, is that they’re all the same. Poe wears the same thing as his pilot friends and their squadrons. Only a bar of colors designates that Poe’s in charge of the lot of them. He also never wears a stupid hat. There are no stupid hats in the Resistance.

Finn sits through the ceremony, expecting it to be much longer. Maybe it’s because he gets to sit, but it seems like they just call out names and ranks, drape some ribbons over people’s necks and then Akbar gives a speech. It’s not even a long speech.

Then, suddenly, everyone is standing and clapping. Finn stands and claps. He sees Poe smile and wave. He doesn’t even know if Poe is waving at him but Finn waves back anyway. Just in case.

Looking out from the stage to Finn, who is nearly obscured in the crowd, Poe elbows Karé Kun and reaches across her to shake Iolo Arana’s shoulder. Do they see Finn still standing there? Poe wants to ask. Doesn’t he look great? He didn’t fall asleep the entire time — more than can be said of Iolo’s date.

Karé winks at him.

The _best_ thing about Resistance ceremonies, in Finn’s mind, is that after the attractive uniforms and short speeches, everyone eats. It’s real food too, not just rations and synthetic protein. No one is keeping track of every ounce Finn gains or loses or throwing away his food if he doesn’t eat fast enough. He knows he’s bigger than he was when he left the First Order, because Poe’s clothing is really too small for him to be borrowing. He can’t see all his muscles the way he can see Rey’s, but he feels pretty good about what he looks like without a shirt on.

Though maybe that's because of how Rey and Poe look at him.

Poe looks at him a lot at the ceremonial dinner, which is somehow less formal than the average mess hall lunch but with nicer clothes. A lot of people he’s worked with want to know why Finn wasn't up there getting promoted and why is he in this stuffy jacket instead of the army dress greys.

“Well,” he says, “I've never even been fitted or anything.”

Poe looks at Finn from across the room while he talks to his friends — all of them in those green jackets so Finn has to tell them apart by their hair. He should be better at this, he always knew who was under each helmet in his squadron before the identification tag popped up on his visuals.

Poe loves seeing Finn surrounded by so many men and women he respects — some of them he barely even knows past their names. They nod at him in passing, one older lieutenant even calls him “Kes’ boy” when he sees him. Poe rarely sees the Resistance’s army, but when he does it's obvious that Finn is a part of it.

He feels silly for ever worrying that people wouldn't accept a… Someone with Finn’s background.

Poe knows he has the hottest date at the party, he just needs to get across the room to him.

That takes a lot of maneuvering — and Karé still follows him.

“Don’t you have a date?” he asks, and it’s supposed to be teasing but Poe’s real irritation shines through.

They exchange looks and then Karé puts her arm in Poe’s. “You’re my date, Dameron.”

He sighs.

“What? Am I too old for you now?” Karé teases, pulling Poe closer. “Or is it because I don't have the Force?”

“It's because—”

He doesn't even get a chance to snark back at Karé because Finn breaks from his conversation to say, “Poe Dameron!”

He smiles so brightly that Poe feels for a moment that they're the only two people in the room. So it's really like that, being in love.

Finn’s been watching Poe get closer and closer — talking with his friend, a pretty girl in braids — waiting for the moment when he's close enough that Finn’s not yelling across the hall. Since his friend has Poe’s right arm, Finn just hugs him on his left side. Then links arms with him just like she does.

“Hi,” she says. “What’s a nice boy like you doing around a man like our Poe Dameron?”

“Oh, you know,” Finn says. “Fighting the First Order. Saving the galaxy.”

Poe sighs. “Finn, this is Karé Kun. Karé, this is Finn.”

“Just Finn?” she asks.

“Just Finn, ma’am,” Finn tells her.

She turns to Poe and giggles against his shoulder.

“Well, ‘Just Finn,’ if you’re looking for a surname, you could have mine,” she says.

“Quit hitting on my date, Kun,” Poe says. “He doesn’t even get that joke.”

“Yes, I do,” Finn objects. “She’s offering to marry me. And, ma’am, I’m sure you’re lovely, but we’ve just met.”

Poe thinks of how Finn still goes by ‘Finn’ even though Poe proposed the name when they’d just met. His cheeks get a little too warm.

“What a gentleman you are,” Karé says. “Also, Poe, I thought I was your date.”

Finn leans in toward Poe’s ear and asks, “Can we go yet?”

And Poe likes people, he likes Karé, but Finn’s breath against his ear makes him want to leave. There’s no rule saying he has to stay — and if there was, Poe would just break it. Especially for Finn.

“Sorry you’re so single, Karé,” Poe says. “But I’ve already got a girlfriend, she just couldn’t make it.”

Karé makes a face at him — one of pure, mock offense. She yanks her arm away and Poe feels a genuine stab of guilt between his ribs.

“Sorry,” he adds. “Like, actually sorry.”

Karé rolls her eyes. “Whatever, Dameron. I see that dating teenagers has brought you down to their level.”

“I’m not a teenager,” Finn says. “And neither is Rey!”

“Sounds like something a teenager would say, babyface,” Karé says.

She gives Poe one last, hard look before turning so fast on her heel that he nearly gets hit in the face by her braids. “Whatever, I’ll go hassle Iolo and his date.”

Poe puts his hand over Finn’s arm in his and squeezes.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Their quarters — which are sometimes Poe’s quarters and sometimes Finn’s and sometimes Rey’s and sometimes a combination of the three of them — are on the other side of the base, but Poe doesn’t think he’ll mind the walk with Finn pressed against his side.

Finn moves his arm from Poe’s arm to his back. He puts one hand on Poe’s waist and it’s just as good as he thought it would be to tuck his thumb into the belt of Poe’s uniform.

“You look good,” Finn says.

“You’ve seen me in this uniform a thousand times,” Poe says. “I look the same as ever.”

“Which is good,” Finn says. “Really good.”

Poe laughs it off, but his smile is genuine.

“You look good too,” he says.

Finn huffs a breath out and rolls his eyes. “This shirt doesn’t even fit me.”

“Well it did,” Poe says. “Maybe if you didn’t do more physical training than me.”

Finn laughs.

“You and Rey walking around lifting freighters single-handed and bench-pressing Banthas,” Poe complains — and Finn knows he’s joking because Poe has a particular tone for when he’s saying things he doesn’t mean. It’s how Finn always knows when he’s lying; how everyone knows.

“And me, I’m just—”

“The best pilot in the Resistance,” Finn cuts in.

Poe takes a deep breath and lifts his hand. “Well, fine, but aside from that…”

“Also the most handsome,” Finn says, licking his upper lip.

Poe’s smile goes lopsided. He bites his lower lip and looks away from Finn, shaking his hair into his face when he does.

“That’s just not fair,” Poe says.

Finn doesn’t know what to say to that. It seems perfectly fair to him. Rey would probably say, ‘Your face isn’t fair.’ She’s better at this sort of thing. Finn either doesn’t know what to say or he goes too far, he says too much. Like telling Poe’s friend ‘I’m not a teenager’ — how dumb could he be? He doesn’t want to make Poe look _bad_.

Poe’s step falls out of sync with Finn’s.

“Wait,” he says. “Where are we going?”

“Uh,” Finn starts.

As Poe looks at him, Finn dances slightly to the right. His hand, disappointingly, leaves Poe’s side. He touches the security pad beside a door and it slides open. Poe leans his head so he can see inside — it’s a storage closet.

Poe looks at Finn, then at the storage closet. He gets it, of course, but he’s thinking of what to say. Or maybe he won’t say anything and just let Finn squirm. That would be rather uncharitable though.

“I just,” Finn starts. “You look _really_ good, Poe. And I’ve been looking at you for like an hour.”

“That ceremony was definitely longer than an hour,” Poe says.

“I know,” Finn says, stressing every syllable. “I was worried it would go on longer, though, I didn’t think I would make it.”

“Were you going to fall asleep?” Poe asks, teasing. He reaches out and nudges Finn’s shoulder. Finn’s hand closes on his wrist, very hot.

“Can I kiss you?” Finn asks. He looks so nervous, distressed and Poe doesn’t know how many times he has to say yes to Finn’s kisses for that nervousness to go away forever.

“Sure,” he says. “Absolutely. It’s been ages since I made-out in a supply closet.”

Poe’s hand goes against the security pad inside the door as they step into the closet. He leans against a shelving unit, all cool metal. Finn braces his arm above Poe’s head. Their mouths meet, easy, soft. Finn’s lips part, but Poe keeps breaking the kiss just to have Finn’s lips touch his again and again.

Gentle, so gentle, Finn’s kisses are a kindness so sweet that Poe feels a little bad about how fast he starts to get aroused. It’s definitely because he just spent so long watching Finn in a crowd of his peers, Poe’s peers, their peers.

Finn’s arm drops down from the shelving to Poe’s shoulder. He puts his hand against Poe’s neck. His thumb brushes the smoothly shaved edge of Poe’s jaw. He catches the collar of Poe’s shirt and tugs on it, plays with the soft fabric. The medal around Poe’s neck is hung from a ribbon so soft it makes Finn’s hands feel made of sand.

Poe picks up one foot, then the other. He sets his legs wide apart and, when that’s not enough, he kicks a little at the back of Finn’s left ankle. Finn steps forward until their hips sort of lineup.

He closes his hand around the ribbon. Poe tilts his head back, which breaks the kiss but Finn figures he knows what he’s doing.

“Mmm, using my battle honors like a leash,” Poe says. “That’s more erotic than I expected.”

Finn lets go of the ribbon — the very, very soft ribbon.

“No!” he protests. “No, Poe. No.”

Poe laughs.

“Oh, come on,” Poe says. “It could be fun.”

Finn drops his hand and it lands on Poe’s waist, his fingers against Poe’s belt. His other hand is already there. This is exactly what he’s been thinking about for _hours_. His hands fit perfectly. He looks down and in the blue light of the supply closet it’s almost as good at Finn thought it would be. He feels hot all over and he is very aroused, which Poe must know.

“This medal should be yours,” Poe says.

“No way,” Finn says.

“Couldn’t have it without you,” Poe whispers. There’s really no reason to whisper, except that it makes him sound more serious, more tender. Finn’s heart beats too fast in his chest. He should kiss Poe just to make him stop talking.

“It’s yours,” Finn says. “You earned it. You’ve earned like twenty medals in the time I’ve known you. You’re amazing.”

“So are you,” Poe says. “And the next time they do one of these promotional shindigs for you ground troops, you better be on stage in something fancy making me proud that I’m your date.”

“Wait,” Finn says, “what about Rey?”

“She can be your date too,” Poe says. “And then we can both go embarrass her when she graduates from Jedi training or something.”

“Alright,” Finn says, then he kisses Poe again.

He tries not to grind down between Poe’s legs, but Poe puts a hand against his lower back and it just happens. Poe makes a sound into Finn’s mouth, all warm breath. Finn kisses Poe a little deeper, touching all the soft parts of Poe’s mouth with his tongue. His thumbs fit snugly under Poe’s belt. It all feels so good that Finn thinks he could get off like this. He would be embarrassed about making a mess in Poe’s clothes, but it wouldn’t be the first time.

“Finn,” Poe says into his mouth. “Finn.”

He pulls away.

“Poe?”

“You can take my belt off if you want,” Poe says.

Finn blinks. “I don’t want to.”

“Oh,” Poe says.

Then again, “Oh.”

Finn feels like Poe knows something about him that he doesn’t know about himself, but Poe just understands.

“Do you want me to turn around?” Poe asks.

Finn scowls. He’s trying to draw the connection between Poe’s belt and their position.

“If you want to,” he says.

“I do,” Poe tells him.

The supply closet isn’t that small, but Poe and Finn fumble around each other when Poe moves. Finn tries to keep his hands on him and Poe wants to be seductive, but also doesn’t want to step on Finn’s toes in heavy, formal boots.

Poe puts one hand on the shelf in front of him and turns just enough that he can look at Finn over his shoulder. They should still be able to kiss like this — they’ve done it before, just not in a supply closet.

Finn leans over him and their mouths meet. Finn’s hand come back to Poe’s belt, to the front of his body. They fit together like this.

“Wait,” Finn says. “Let me take off my jacket.”

Poe’s nicest jacket gets folded in half and rested on a dusty supply shelf. When Finn leans back into Poe, he wishes he’d just taken his shirt off. Or at least unbuttoned his collar a little more. Poe just wishes he didn’t have his jacket on. He would like the warmth of Finn’s skin against his back. He has the solid weight instead and the heat of his own clothing smothering him.

The fall of this jacket really covers an erection well, Poe thinks. He's not much for fashion but that seems like a nice design.

Finn kisses Poe while he runs his hands over the soft fabric of his uniform. He doesn't mean to push himself against Poe’s ass, but Poe started it. He arches his back under Finn and it feels good even through many layers of fabric.

Poe’s nice pants are not very comfortable for Finn to get hard in. He misses his usual clothes, which aren't so constructing and don't have any buttons or hooks in sensitive places.

Right up against Poe’s lips, he makes a groan that's as much discomfort as it is arousal.

“You alright?” Poe asks.

“Your pants are too tight on me,” Finn says, which feels like he's complaining about Poe lending him something nice enough to wear to the promotion ceremony.

Poe’s smirk is a very familiar shape against Finn’s mouth.

“So take them off, hotshot.”

Heat prickles the backs of Finn’s ears. Poe feels Finn’s knuckles against his ass as he opens all the buttons in the fly of his borrowed dress pants. Finn heaves a sigh against Poe’s cheek when he finally gets the pressure of tight underwear and all those buttons off of his erection. The fabric of Poe’s jacket is soft against his skin.

“I’m going to ruin your clothes,” Finn says. “You should take them off.”

Poe laughs. “I’ve got to remember that line.”

“It’s not—” Finn starts to say, but he realizes what he’s said. It made perfect sense in his head.

Poe reaches back and pulls up the bottom hem of his jacket, tucking it into the leather belt around his waist.

“There,” he says.

The knit of his pants is tight enough to make the fabric smooth. Finn’s thighs shiver from the effort it takes to hold himself back. He chews on the insides of his lips.

With one hand, Poe can get all the buttons of his fly open. His pants fall all the way down the straight lines of his legs when he pushes them. But he struggles to get his underwear down with just one hand.

“Finn,” he says. “A little help here.”

Finn’s hands shake, but as soon as he grabs the stretchy fabric of Poe’s underwear he knows what he’s doing. He’s confident. He gets Poe’s underwear down around his knees.

“You want it off?” he asks. “I didn’t bring any, uh, lubricant or anything. I can’t...”

“Oh, trust me, we can,” Poe says.

For a moment, Poe feels knowledgeable and wicked. Experience makes him confident. Confidence always makes Poe act a little cocky.

“You want to grind against me,” Poe says, “just like we’re fucking. Trust me, it’ll feel great.”

Finn kisses him again, their mouths meeting at an odd angle. Poe’s nose gets pushed against the side of Finn’s nose. Against his back, Finn presses tight against him. Under his jacket, Poe’s too hot. But his legs are cold except where Finn’s skin touches his.

They fit together, close enough in height that Finn’s cock fits right against the cleft of Poe’s ass. It’s rough, but Finn kisses Poe harder than he means to when he realizes how good the friction of skin against skin is. The hair on Poe’s legs rubs against his as he moves and Finn quickly starts moving fast enough that it’s all heat between their bodies.

He puts a hand around Poe’s cock and it’s almost like he’s jerking himself off.

The shaft of Finn’s cock brushes over Poe’s hole and he wants more than he’s going to get in a supply closet far from his room. It’s good for him, he thinks, to not get everything he wants right away. Right then, Poe wants to come and wants to make Finn come. They’re in a rush and Poe doesn’t want to get fucked in a rush.

“Want to take my time with you,” Poe murmurs.

“Yes, yes,” Finn says. “I’m going to… Do that. This feels so good, but I can make you feel even better.”

The certainty in Finn’s voice makes Poe groan.

“Put your dick between my legs,” Poe says.

And it just takes one motion of Finn’s hand. Poe squeezes his thighs together and Finn chokes.

“Oh that’s good, that’s really good,” he says.

“Yeah,” Poe says. “I know.”

His smirk comes out even in his breathiest voice. Finn kisses it off his face.

Mostly dry skin drags against dry skin. They sweat under their clothes, breathing stale, dusty air in big gasps. They breathe each other’s air when they kiss. Every motion feels jerky and rough.

“I promise I’ll last longer when we get back to your bunk,” Finn says.

His cock rubs hot against the insides of Poe’s thighs. It drags against Poe’s hole as Finn pulls back and then thrusts so far between his legs that the head of his dick pushes up against Poe’s balls, which are tight against his body. He’s so close.

“I want to make you come,” Finn says, lips against Poe’s mouth.

And Poe jerks against him. He cries out — loud enough that he hopes no one’s walking past the door. He comes in Finn’s hand, ready to laugh at himself. He swears it’s because Finn’s so good and not because Finn told him to come. Really.

Finn shakes all over. His hand shakes, but he keeps it tight around Poe’s dick. He feels like magic, but Poe feels so good against him. He squeezes his eyes tightly shut and bites his own tongue to keep from making too much noise. He’s had a lot of practice at being quiet when he comes.

They breathe hard together. Poe clutching the shelves in front of him and Finn clutching Poe’s waist.

“Do you want me to keep my uniform jacket on when you fuck me tonight?” Poe asks. “Or is that just my wishful thinking?”

Finn wonders, not for the first time, if Poe’s lying when he says he doesn’t have the Force.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a [Tumblr](http://jeffgoldblumsmulletinthe90s.tumblr.com).


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